Bare: A Series of OneShots
by freeingindia
Summary: This is a series of oneshots sort of retelling the story of Bare, switching back and forth between Peter and Jason's POV, but alone they stand as a little fluffy oneshot. They're all told from the second POV, and every first and last line is the same.
1. Imperfect Peter's POV

**Imperfect**

**A/N: This is Peter's POV, and also number one in the series. I think there will be about thirteen in all, and I have about six of them written, so I just need to post them as I go along. This first one is short, I realize, so not every single one will be as short as this, but I felt I needed to establish where I think Peter and Jason stand before I go into the story. Enjoy, and please review when done!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Bare I would be having sex with it, not writing fic about it.**

* * *

You hope he looks at you today. 

You dressed up special, just for him, so you really hope he looks at you today.

You've been trying so hard lately to be everything he could ever possibly dream of wanting. He's so perfect, so absolutely beautiful, and so everything you wanted. You don't know how you ended up with him. You're everything he's not. You're ugly, and meek, and utterly imperfect. He's nothing of the sort.

Late at night you stare at your reflection in the mirror, wondering why he chose you when there are so many people that are perfect just like him.

He tells you you're perfect, more than he could ever imagine, and all you think is "Lie". You're not. But he is. He's wonderful, and gorgeous, and his smile lights up the world. If everyone turned off every single light, there would still be plenty of illumination radiating from that smile.

You shiver whenever and where ever he touches you, you skin burns like its on fire, and it feels like heaven has burst through. You're in love, and you don't quite know what to do with this information.

So you smile at him whenever you can, and know that if your smile is one-billionth as heart-stopping as his is, it's good enough.

Your mirror winks at you, the sun glinting onto it. You try and smooth your hair one more time before heading out the door.

You really hope he looks at you today.


	2. Liar Jason's POV

**Liar**

**A/N:This is sort of cute and happy and everything Bare is not, which I find somewhat amusing. **

**Disclaimer: Seriously, guys? No.**

* * *

He looks at you, like he's waiting for some sort of reply, some sort of answer, some sort of conformation, but you can't speak. You stare at him and notice for the billionth time how absolutely beautiful he is, how perfect he looks when he's looking at you. 

His lips quiver and break out into a questioning smile, so adorable it breaks your heart. You know instantly that if anything ever happened to that smile, you would die. You stare some more at him, and you can't help but grin.

He looks so wondrous, and you wonder yet again why he chose you. You're nothing compared to him. You're a piece of gravel to his canary diamond. He tells you that you're amazing in every way, shape, and form. You tell him, whisper to him like you don't want the rest of the world to discover it, that he's perfect, that absolutely nothing is wrong with him.

You hope that he can hear the sincerity in your voice, the truth in your eyes, hope that he understands that it's true, because you know it's the one thing in your world that's real.

He doesn't though; he doesn't believe you when you say that he's gorgeous, and just so completely perfect. Sometimes, when you spend the night together, you awake in the middle of the night because you feel a slight shift in him. He sits up, and somehow you know it's a good time to pretend you're still sleeping. But you can't sleep when you know something's wrong. He smoothes back your hair, and lets his hand run down your face and arms, playing gently and softly with your fingers. He whispers, "Liar," then kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a few moments before laying back down.

You shift your stare to his hands now, loving how soft and fragile they feel between yours.

"I-I love you. I do. I love you." He looks so nervous, so unsure.

You can't help the humongous smile from forming on your face. You're speechless.

You don't know what to say.


	3. Them Peter's POV

**Them**

**A/N: This one I actually kind of like, so don't kill me for it. Uhm.. it's kind of saddish, and I believe it's somewhat Best Kept Secret, with Peter wanting to come out and Jason wanting to "stay in". **

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Bare, believe it or not.**

* * *

You feel like the wind's been knocked out of you.

You train your gaze on his and he keeps his eyes on you, and you wonder what the next step after heart-breaking is because you're feeling so lost and confused right now. His eyes are sharp and emotionless, when normally they're full of compassion and love... and some things that sometimes really scare you, like lust and an infinite number of questions you trusted him to know the answer to.

In his eyes you used to see a comforting world, one of open and safe days as well as open and safe nights, and that silly white picket fence you always dreamed of.

Now that world's been damaged by outsiders, that safety and openness has transformed into mockery and forbidden wanting, that white picket fence that held you close and comforted has been bulldozed, then incinerated. You recognize this face as one he wears when he's pretending, when he's trying to keep all his emotions in check and unreadable, and it kills you that he feels he has to pretend with you. You're trying to send messages to him with your mind, ones that say _Don't__ you trust me? Don't you believe in us? Don't you believe in forever? Don't you believe in us two forever? _and the one that kills you the most to even dare to question: _Don't you love me? _

He takes notice how much he's hurt you – for once, all the rest of the time he never seems to notice, never seems to care – and sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "You know we can't tell them. What would they think?"

You know you can't tell. You know what they would think. You'll go to hell, God will hate you, you'll be disowned and unaccepted. You're sick in the head for feeling this way. But according to "them", the world… society… him, sometimes, you're supposed to live life as you want to. Be who you want to be. Do what you want to do. Love who you want to love. You hated these speeches, hated how they stare at you and pretend to be somebody who believes in what they're preaching. You want to interrupt them and see how they react to your truth, see how they react to a real situation.

But you keep it inside you, for a boy whose eyes are like forever summer's oceans and whose lips – most – always know how to say the right words.

He takes your hand and sandwiches it between his, pleading with his eyes. And since you can't say no to those eyes, you give in immediately. "Just because they don't want to know doesn't mean we don't want it." and it's that God forsaken talent of those God forsaken lips that makes everything okay, that makes you surrender and melt so much you've officially been declared ice cream. He kisses you, one long and hard and beautiful and meaningful, and you can't help but smile like a five year-old after they got their face painted at the carnival for the first time. You're breathless and exhilarated and in love.

You feel like the wind's been knocked out of you.


	4. Record Jason's POV

**Record**

**A/N: This one I kind of like, so don't kill me for it. Ivy's brought in (the "She" in all this business), and it seems a hell of a lot like she's offering drugs, but when I say taste and dose... I don't know. Each chapter by itself, the "you" is supposed to be an unknown gender, so technically it could be a kiss or drugs that she's offering, but in Bare it's obviously a kiss. This takes place in One Kiss.**

**Disclaimer: Wow, uhm, of COURSE I own Bare. I'm also Bill Gates, couldn't you tell?**

* * *

You feel like your world's been turned upside down.

You want to love him more than anything, but your relationship has been deemed politically incorrect and plain old disgusting by the entire world. It's apparently a sin to love someone like him, but in your opinion, it's just a favor to God to love someone as holy as him, a pure and utter and complete angel, complete with a halo, in human form.

But you know you two can't be together, and what he doesn't understand is it's as painful for you as it is for him when you tell him you can't, because you've a feeling you love him more than he knows, more than he loves you (which you know, is almost impossible), even if you have a harder time saying it.

You know he's always hurt when you're with her, spending those precious hours with her instead of him, and it kills you to see him in pain, but you can't just jump up and kiss him, and leave her alone wondering what's gone wrong. It's always your fault when a trace of doubt fills his mind. It's always your responsibility to whisper in his ear those little delicate shards of what he believes; it's always you who has to rebuild his faith when most of the time you don't know what you're lying about and you in turn need to be told you're okay, but somehow it's always a one-sided therapist's couch. You need these lies replayed to you, but they never are so you're just a broken record that's only used when he needs to feel good again, but never because sometimes it's nice to hear.

God, you know that's not true at all, that he loves you more than anything and you also don't mind being that broken record when it's him you're playing for.

She interrupts that little fantasy world of yours, and sometimes it annoys you and you want to chuck her little third-wheel-self off the marriage carriage, but right now you need a little fix and she whispers to you an offer that's just too good to pass up. You realize that if he knew he'd be pissed but he's not here and her offer stands.

You taste a little bit and she confirms that she's got more than plenty stashed for a rainy day, or a Thursday, whichever may come first. _God it's good_ and it's the distraction you need and for once you're not the record, she is ("What's it gonna do? It won't do you any harm.") so you take the full-blown dose and _Jesus!_ it's amazing.

You feel like your world's been turned upside down


	5. Wrong Peter's POV

**Wrong**

**A/N: This one is sad, and I'm somewhat in love with it. It's very muchly Ever After, which is one of my favorite numbers because of all the sadness and heartbreaking going on, especially when Peter says, "You slew all my giants, ignoring you own. Now that they've caught you, I'm left with my courage alone." Because, AH! Amazing! And I think that works with what I've kind of got going on here, when Jason says that he's the record for Peter but Peter never helps Jason, you know? But anyways, it's sad and loverly in my opinion, so enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: No. Not at all.**

* * *

He looks apologetic for some reason, and he says that incase you didn't know, he loves you. Where that came from, and why, you have no idea. You want to bask in the glory of the fact that he just told you he loves you, and smack him in the head for even questioning your love. 

But you can't, because of how he's looking at you. Your eyes frantically search his, idiotically trying to telepathically ask him what's wrong.

Since he can't take the hint – he can never take the hint, never knows when it's just too much – you flat out ask him.

His face softens into one of pity, and you want to slap him for it, because what have you done that deserves pity? Absolutely nothing, and yet he hasn't stopped looking at you like he needs to tell you some thing but doesn't know how.

You start to advance on him, because you're honestly thinking about slapping that look off his face when he stops you, dead in your tracks.

He apologizes for no being everything you need. You grab him and give him a slight shake, for it's the most absurd idea you've ever heard, then chide him and remind him of how wrong he is, how he's everything you couldn't begin to imagine. You tell him how amazing he his, and he seems to take comfort in it. You haven't the slightest idea why he thinks that, when you're the one who doesn't deserve him. You're so inferior to him, it's not a great thought, but it's true, and he doesn't seem to understand that. You grab his hand, bring it up to your face and kiss his palm before placing it on your cheek, and you're trying to show him how much you love him, how well you go together. For a moment he gives you the sort of look you want him to give you, one of love and hope and everything a fairytale's made of, then suddenly your cheek is cold, suddenly he's wrenched himself away from you, suddenly he's shaking his head, murmuring to himself something that comes out as, "This is wrong, it's so wrong," and your heart's just been ripped to shreds and you wonder what's gone amiss.

"We're wrong," he tells you, and there it is, a bullet's been pounded into your chest. "We can't be together. We don't belong together." Another what, fifteen bullets? It doesn't matter how many, it just matters that there are some, and why is he doing this to you? "We're completely wrong, God, we're so wrong, we can't be together anymore. I'm sorry."

He gives you that same detestable apologetic look, then leaves you standing alone, bleeding to death.

You can't begin to fathom why he thinks that.


End file.
